


Puns always intended

by noelia_g



Category: White Collar
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noelia_g/pseuds/noelia_g





	Puns always intended

They've been in the hotel room for three hours, and Neal is going stir crazy.

And it's not that he can't be patient, he can when he wants to, when it's worth it, but the whole day had been boring and spent on paperwork, and now he's all holed up in a room rented by the FBI and the FBI doesn't like to waste money, so it's no presidential suite.

"I could just go downstairs to the hotel bar," he tells Peter and maybe his tone is a bit whiny, maybe.

Peter sighs, leaning back in his chair. He looks as tired and bored as Neal feels, but the exasperation was probably brought on less by the boredom itself and more by Neal's constant nagging.

If it gets him something to do, even if that something is just arguing with Peter for the next hour, then Neal doesn't regret nagging.

"It's been no for the first seven times you asked and it's still no," Peter mutters.

Not that Neal expected anything different. They flew to Chicago following a lead, and the radius hadn't been reset for this city. Peter's unlikely to let Neal leave his sight.

Still, it's unbearably boring, and Neal is considering stealing the painting from the bedroom wall, and that painting can't be worth more than five bucks. It's also incredibly ugly. That's how bored he is.

"We could at least play cards," he mutters. At the look he gets he shrugs, his best innocent expression called up, "oh, come on, Peter. I'm bored."

"I've noticed. And there's no chance in hell I'm playing cards with you. I think you're actually incapable of not cheating at any game."

"One way to find out, right? And I didn't mean for money."

"Let me guess," Peter starts rolling his eyes as Neal smirks.

"Strip-poker?"

"No."

"Well, how about chess? It's really difficult to cheat at chess."

"I'm sure you'd manage," Peter assures him and somehow, it sounds a little like a compliment. Neal beams. "You packed a chessboard?"

Damnit, he knew he forgot about something. "I'm desperate here, Peter. I'll settle for twenty questions."

Peter gives him a long look, his lips curling in a held back smile. Neal kind of likes that smile. "Don't tempt me. I'm sure there are some questions you wouldn't want to answer."

Well, true. This whole thing proved to be even more difficult than he expected. And of course, Peter couldn't just make it easy on him and accompany him to the bar. No, it always has to be the hard way, with Peter.

And wasn't that the thought. Neal smirked, shifting in his chair. It was Peter's own fault, of course, for being so stubborn.

"Just find a way to entertain yourself," Peter is saying, probably finishing a longer tirade Neal missed, lost in contemplating his new scheme.

He shifts the chair closer to Peter's, pretending to be restless. Well, not as much pretending as playing his actual restlessness to an advantage. "So, that's what your advice is?" he asks absently, leaning forward just a little. "Find myself something to do?"

"As long as it's in this room and manages to shut you up, I'll be happy," Peter said wryly.

Neal grinned, sinking gracefully to his knees, pushing Peter's knees apart as he crawled closer. It took Peter a good few seconds to shake his head and shake off the surprise.

"Neal, what are you doing?" he asked, as if it wasn't quite easy to tell.

Neal looked up, smiling slyly, pointedly licking his lips. "Finding a good way to entertain myself. It's in this room," he added, swiftly undoing Peter's pants, "it will manage to shut me up, and believe me, it will make you quite happy."

"Oh, god," Peter says, and it could be 'oh, god, I walked into this one myself' or it could be 'oh, god, Neal has a firm grip on my cock now and it's fantastic'. Neal doesn't really care which one, but probably both.

"Neal," he corrects, mostly to hear Peter groan at the cliché, and then, with a flick of his finger, have that groan turn into something else entirely.

"Neal," Peter says sternly, or tries to say sternly, his hand shooting out and catching Neal's wrist firmly. "Not the time and definitely not the place."

Oh, please, Neal thinks. That would fly, maybe, if Peter wasn't visibly making an effort to stop himself from thrusting into Neal's hand. "Locked hotel room," he points out. "That we have for the night. Honestly, Peter, I would have thought you planned this."

This gets him an exasperated eyeroll, but Peter's smiling slightly now, and that's the smile Neal likes the most, one that always appears the moment before Peter gives in to one of Neal's schemes.

"I suppose there are worse things you could get up to," Peter mutters, his hold on Neal's wrist loosening. "Pun not intended," he says belatedly, after Neal smirks at him.

"Sometimes I wonder why I like you so much," he says dryly.

"I thought you said this was going to shut you up?" Peter asks pleasantly and, well, it sounds like a challenge and Neal leans in, taking Peter's cock into his mouth.

Neal really likes this part; when Peter seems to forget about everything, let go for a while. His fingers tangle in Neal's hair, tightening his grip when Neal angles his head just right, lets Peter thrust into his mouth.

"Neal," is all Peter says, in between the highly enjoyable sounds he makes, deep in his throat, and that's the other thing Neal likes a lot; the way his name sounds on Peter's lips, and that Peter never seems to forget who it is he's with, that there's a space in his head that's just for them and just for Neal.

He lays a steadying hand on Peter's thigh as Peter comes, and Neal swallows it all down, licks his lips and looks up, and Peter is looking down with one of his more undecipherable expressions. He does have a few of those, even though sometimes he's almost too easy to read.

But now Peter's eyes are clouded with something else than just lust and he reaches out, pulling Neal up and pulling him close for a kiss.

"I think I'm kind of glad I didn't pack the chessboard," Neal mutters, making Peter laugh into his neck.


End file.
